


spectacle

by unholyseraphs (oncharredwings)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, there are some sorta graphic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/unholyseraphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is an FBI agent who has been on the case of a serial killer who has claimed ten lives in six months. Castiel Novak is a former FBI psychiatrist and consultant who had been a help to the FBI in the past. Dean knows that with Castiel's help they can bag the killer but when Dean finds out the truth about Castiel, it could be their undoing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. début

**Author's Note:**

> Track to listen to: Moonlight Sonata

“Looks like we got another one...again, no connection, nothing even all that similar really.”

 

Dean Winchester frowned as he slowly walked up to the body on crude display; the victim’s ankles were tied and thighs raised above his head, while his torso rested along the floor. If he hadn’t known any better, Dean would have assumed he had been tied like this for some bizarre sex act. “Doesn’t look all that comfortable,” he said as he circled the body slowly. “And what killed him, exactly?”

 

“Blood loss from what we can discern,” came the reply as Garth continued to look over the files and take quick glances to the body now and again. “I mean, the guy was mutilated pretty badly but we’re pretty sure he died from blood loss. The coroner will be able to tell you for certs when we get this guy back to her.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, before slowly kneeling to turn the victim’s face. “Why put him like this?”

  


“On display?”

 

“Yeah.” The bureau had come across enough killings in the last few months that they had put out the serial killer alarm bells. The killer was smart and never left any evidence behind however, and had left Dean chasing his tail for what felt like years. “I mean, he looks like-...well, you know..” Dean gestured helplessly at the body.

  


“Like he was getting ready to take it up the-”

  


“Yeah Garth, _yeah_. Keep it classy man.” Dean turned away, his eyes roaming the area the body had been found in. They were in an abandoned warehouse, and the killer had strung the victim up via ceiling rafters.

  


“Well, maybe our killer is a closeted homo,” Garth replied. “He does always pick male vics and they’re always naked at the scene. He hasn’t sodomized or raped them as far as we can tell but maybe that’s next on his list.”

  


Dean frowned before slowly turning back around. “Are you _sure_ all of these killings are by the same guy? They’re always so-”

  


“Different? Yeah, well, I will admit _that_ gets me scratching my head but-” Garth shrugged. “Unless you want to think that we’ve got three different psycho murderers running around at the same exact time….well, I think I’d rather believe it’s the same guy. What’s Novak say about it?”

  


Dean ran his thumb along his lower lip. “I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him recently.”

  


“You should, see what he says...and then maybe we can bag this guy once and for all.”

  


Castiel Novak was a former FBI psychiatrist and investigator; he had left the bureau after claiming he had become too close to the killer mentally, and he no longer had clarity. The killer had not been the only person Castiel had gotten too close to during the investigation. Dean remembered the way he and Castiel had fucked on Castiel’s desk; the doctor had given him mindblowingly excellent sex, but they had both agreed to go their separate ways. They had both agreed that seeing each other would have been a conflict of interest. That did not stop Dean from missing Castiel’s hands on his naked body.

  


“Agent Winchester?”

  


Dean blinked and slowly came back to himself. “Yeah? Sorry, did you say something?”

  


“Contact Dr. Novak,” Garth replied. “You really should see what he has to say.”

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


The music flowed through his limbs and relaxed his mind completely; the lull of Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_ reverberated through the walls. Castiel closed his eyes and focused on the music, a slight smile filling his face. His fingers played imaginary keys in front of him, as he remembered all of the piano lessons his mother had forced him to attend for so many years. The unfortunate fact was that he lacked a piano, so his stereo did the work for him. He continued to smile until a jarring sound cut through the music and made him frown; his doorbell was ringing. Who would be visiting his house at this hour?

  


Castiel stood and shut the music off and the silence flooded soon after, weighing his thoughts and shoulders down. The doorbell rang again as Castiel left his sitting room and walked down the wooden floored hallway to the frosted glass of his front door. When he opened the door and realized who was standing there, he could not help but smile. “Dean Winchester, it’s been too long.”

  


“Hey Cas,” Dean said quietly. In Dean’s hand he held a bottle of wine and in the other a file. “You mind if we have a talk?”

           

“This is about a murder, isn’t it?” he whispered as he stood aside to allow Dean into his house.

  


“Yeah,” Dean admitted.

  


“You do know I do not work for the FBI any longer, Dean. I don’t _do_ that kind of work anymore-”

  


“I know Cas,” Dean said. “But I need your help. Please?”

  


Castiel glanced down at the file in Dean’s hand before outstretching his own. “Let’s go sit in the living room.”

  


“Thanks Cas.”

  


The hallway stretched on for what felt like forever as Castiel led Dean back to the living room to sit once again on his couch. Dean chose to sit in a chair opposite the couch, and the bottle of wine was set on the coffee table. He would have to question Dean about the wine later. First, he had to look at the case file. The photos inside made his stomach twist. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered shakily.

  


“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean muttered bitterly. “I swear, the shows on TV these days are only adding fuel to the creative fire.”

  


Castiel glanced up at Dean in alarm before lowering his eyes back to the photographs. “How many victims?”

  


“So far? Ten. Ten in the past six months. At first, we didn’t think they were by the same guy because they’ve all been so different but the more we study the crime scenes, the more we’re thinking it’s the same guy. Not sure why he changes up his M.O. so often though.”

  


“ _Modus operandi_ ,” Castiel muttered before rubbing his chin. “That is odd….but I can see some similarities between these. They’re all young men, for example..between the ages of twenty and thirty-five. They all have green eyes from what I can discern. Perhaps, that is your link? Perhaps this killer has an obsession with green eyed, young men.”

  


“Yeah but _why_ , Cas?” Dean asked.

  


Castiel glanced up at Dean again and saw the distress written all over his face; he clearly had not been getting enough sleep lately. “I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know everything.”

  


Dean snorted. “Yeah you do. You have some theory cooking up there, I can see the wheels turning.”

  


Castiel licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair; he turned back to studying the photos again. “Have you ever considered you really are looking for more than one killer?”

  


“Yeah, in the beginning but Cas we’re _positive_ it’s one guy-”

  


“I didn’t say more than one man, I said more than one killer.” The realization flooded him before he raised his eyes to Dean’s again. “What if, your killer _is_ the same man, however he is more than one man after all.”

  


“You’re losin’ me Doc.”

  


“What if your killer has a personality disorder,” Castiel said as he spun some photos around so Dean could see them upright. “Look, if you really _look_ at these two photographs, you can see the same hand cut and killed these men. The methods are slightly different but really, they’re all the same.”

  


Dean leaned forward to see if he could see what Castiel saw. “I don’t see it Cas, but it’s an interesting theory.”

  


“If so, then you are dealing with a highly unstable but intelligent man. He is probably in his late twenties, early thirties. Probably a closeted homosexual, or perhaps he isn’t closeted at all...perhaps he is choosing closeted male victims. Have you considered that?” Castiel asked. He knew that just because a killer murdered men and stripped them naked did not a homosexual make, but he could also tell the FBI were grasping at straws to figure this case out. They needed a common link.

  


“So, let’s say he is gay...let’s say he’s picking green eyed, closeted queers. But there isn’t enough evidence for that to hold up in court, Cas.” Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  


“You’re tired,” Castiel remarked quietly.

  


“I’ve basically been up for twenty-four hours straight Cas, yeah I’m pretty tired.” Dean turned his eyes to the bottle of wine. “You wanna?”

  


The sight of tired and exhausted Dean made Castiel shift in his seat slightly; he knew what tired and slightly tipsy Dean was like and Castiel was not completely sure he would be able to tell himself _no_ this time. “No,” he whispered, even as he reached for the bottle of wine to open.

  


Dean grinned. “Yeah, I missed you too.”

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“So, what’s Cas think about the bodies?”

  


Dean glanced up at Bobby Singer, his captain, addressed him directly as soon as he walked into the offices the following morning. “Ugh-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about-”

  


“Don’t play me Dean,” Bobby said with a wave of his hand. “I know you went to see him. I didn’t say you _couldn’t_ see him. I just said we shouldn’t be constantly consulting the man who specifically asked us to quit consulting him.”

  


Dean rolled his eyes and straightened his coat. “ _Doctor_ Novak thinks that the guy might be a homosexual who has an obsession with possibly closeted, green eyed males, but there isn’t any real evidence to support that theory. I think he was just trying to give us something to grab onto and hope for the best.”

  


“The guy never assaulted these victims sexually,” Bobby pointed out.

  


“Doesn’t mean he’s not gay but I don’t think that matters anyway,” Dean replied with a wave of his hand. “Again, I think Dr. Novak was just trying to give us _something_ , which is more than the nothing we’ve got right now.”

  


“Is that all he said?” Bobby asked with a sigh. They had relied on Castiel Novak for so long to bag killers that running the operation without him seemed impossible, but even Dean knew that Castiel’s last assumption was a grasping at nonexistant straws.

  


The memory of the way Castiel smelled filled his nose as Charlie Bradbury brought in Bobby’s usual cup of coffee. Castiel loved coffee.

  


_“You smell good,” he whispered against Castiel’s ear._

_Castiel smiled. “Do I?” The smile widened as he wrapped strong hands around Dean’s thighs and pressed them open._

_“Yeah,” he muttered as the sound of a cap closing brought Dean back to the realization that Castiel was about to press eager fingers into his body. He groaned._

  


“No,” Dean said slowly as he remembered Castiel’s other comment. “He said something about the guy having a personality disorder….I don’t know, I didn’t put much stock into it.”

  


Bobby ran a hand along his beard. Dean could see his curiosity piquing. “Could explain the differences in the killings….the one personality kills the men with a classy finesse; he strings them up, puts them on display, but he also mutilates the bodies. Taking parts with him as trophies. The second is less confident, he’s shaky, uneasy...he leaves the dead with a cross, as if that will help them go to Jesus in the afterlife….and the third moves quickly, making sure their life ends swiftly. He also leaves some type of religious message behind. Our killer is some twisted man of God.”

  


Dean nodded and slowly sank into the chair opposite Bobby’s desk. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I mean, if you wanna run with that theory, we’d have to have Cas really come in and give us a full explanation _why_ he thinks the guy is...well you know…” Dean twirled his thumb near his temple as the general sign for _crazy_.

  


“Yes, yes I know...here’s hoping Dr. Novak is in a good mood this morning,” Bobby said as he reached for the phone.

  


Dean tried not to smirk. He knew for a fact that Castiel was in an _excellent_ mood this morning.

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“Ah, Dr. Novak I’m glad you could come at such a short notice.”

  


Castiel nodded and accepted Bobby Singer’s hand for the handshake as he walked into the morgue. “I presume I am here to...examine the victims and tell you what I think, yes?”

  


“That’s correct Doctor,” Bobby replied as he walked Castiel over to the first table, gesturing for the sheet to be lifted and reveal the body beneath.

  


“I already spoke to Agent Winchester last night,” Castiel began, still remaining near the doorway. Helping the FBI had become his life for so long that he had grown used to seeing dead bodies on a regular daily basis. That did not make seeing the bodies in person any easier.

  


“Yes, but we need a more official report from you,” Bobby said gently. “I know this is never easy for you, Dr. Novak but your help is thoroughly appreciated.”

  


Castiel licked his lips and slowly walked over to the table. The body was well into decomposition and whatever was suppressing the smell was a miracle at work. The throat was slit so jaggedly, Castiel wondered how long it had taken the killer to finish the act. “He was afraid,” he said quietly as he stared at the wound. “And I assume this is not actually what killed the man. It’s not deep enough.”

  


“Um, no,” Bobby replied as he pointed out the wound in the chest cavity. “He was stabbed several times in the chest afterwards.”

  


“He was afraid of killing, this is probably his first victim.”

  


Bobby glanced up at Dean as he walked into the room. “It isn’t, Dr. Novak. In fact, this is the fifth body.”

  


“Fifth?” he whispered in surprise as he stared down at the body.  “No, no this _has_ to be the first-unless…..unless, this is the nervous personality finally coming out to play.” He could feel Dean’s presence and he did not have to look up to see Dean had joined them. “He has three personalities….the one from what Dea- Agent Winchester showed me last night is the predominant personality, probably the main showrunner. This, this personality is a more nervous, probably more moral personality.”

  


“And the third?” Bobby asked.

  


“I’d have to see a different body,” Castiel replied nervously. Even as he closed his eyes, the imprint of the body’s image remained on his retinas. He would be having nightmares for a few weeks after this. The next body was not as disrepaired as the first one had been allowed to see, but he did have a cross branded into his chest. “What killed this man?”

  


“We believe a single blow to the head,” Bobby replied.

  


Castiel nodded. “This personality, is more confident than the prior but still not as confident as the main. He is religious.”

  


“The other you saw, always leaves a physical cross with his victims. This one tends to carve or burn an image or passage into the body.”

  


“Hm, and the main? Does he leave religious messages behind?”

  


“No.”

  


“I see…”

  


“Does that...I mean does that ruin your theory?” Bobby asked.

  


He frowned and turned to look away from the body. “No, not necessarily. Perhaps, your killer has doubts about God, or religious, but his other two personalities are his faith personified. One is shaken but also conscientious. The other is more grounded but also still further away from being truly faithful to God. This,” Castiel gestured to the body, “is an act of this man _playing_ God. Not _doing_ God’s work but believing he is more like God than the other. The man who mutilates and displays his bodies, believes he is above God. That he is better than God, and thus has no faith at all.”

  


“Smart,” Dean commented.

  


Castiel glanced back at Dean and half smiled. “I could be very wrong, Agent.”

  


“But you could also be very _right_ ,” Dean replied. “And I’m leaning towards you being right.”

  


“So, Dr. Novak, you believe this man is suffering from a personality disorder?” Bobby interrupted.

  


Dean stared at him and Castiel did not break their glance. Dean’s eyes were green, he realized. “Yes,” he replied after finally tearing his eyes away from Dean’s. “I do.”

  


“Thank you,” Bobby said firmly. “If you could write up an official report-”

  


“Of course, Agent Singer I’d be happy to do so. Do I have permission to leave now?” Castiel asked nervously. The room’s smells and vapors were making him nauseated. “I need to sit down.”

  


“I’ll walk him out, Bobby,” Dean replied quickly as he walked over to take his arm.

  


Castiel nodded at Bobby and allowed Dean to walk him out of the room, even as his head spun and he felt his stomach knot. “I’m going to be sick-”

  


“Easy Cas-”

  


Darkness was creeping in on his peripherals. _Dean has green eyes_ he thought before it pulled him under.

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“Is he okay?”

  


Dean nodded, his face still in his hands. “Yeah, he’ll be alright.”

  


“Good...because I just got a call about another body, I was hoping you and Dr. Novak could take it.”

  


Dean looked up at Bobby and stared at him as if he had lost his mind, which as far as Dean could tell, he had. “Cas just _fainted_ from being in a morgue, Bobby! I’m not about to take him out into the field-”

  


“I’m fine,” came Castiel’s voice, interrupting them. “I can go. I’m fine now.”

  


“Cas-”

  


“I’m fine Dean, I think it would be helpful for me if I saw an actual fresh crime scene.” Castiel pulled his jacket on. “So, where to?”

  


“Cas, you don’t have to do this,” Dean insisted. He stood up and walked over to grasp onto Castiel’s shoulder. “You _really_ don’t have to do this.”

  


“I’m going to be fine Dean, really. Please, let’s just do this.” Castiel gestured for them to head out and Dean could only sigh because there was no chance in convincing Castiel otherwise. “Alright. Let’s go.”

  


Castiel nodded to Bobby and then they were walking out of the building and out to Dean’s car. “Before you tell me that I don’t have to do this again, I know Dean. But I also know that I have to do this.”

  


Dean glanced over at Castiel before going over to get the door open. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  


“No you’re not.”

  


He could feel the urge to flinch rise but he withheld the urge. “We need you here Cas, you’re needed _here_. Not sitting in your Victorian while listening to classical music.”

  


Castiel sighed. “You may think that Dean but doing this is not healthy for me. Once this is over, I am back out, do you understand?”

  


“Cas-” He looked over at Castiel only in time to receive a glare that shut his voice down and shoved it back down his throat. “Look, I just think that ever since you left we haven’t had as good of a team. Our success rate has plummeted since you left Cas. _Plummeted_.”

  


“I am sure you can find someone else like me-” Castiel looked away from Dean, refusing to meet his gaze.

  


“Cas, there is _no_ one else like you. No one.” He wanted to say more but they were pulling up to where the crime scene tape was up and the lights were flashing. “You’re unique Cas.”

  


“Hannibal Lecter was unique,” Castiel snapped sharply.

  


“Hannibal Lecter is a fictional serial killer from a book series,” Dean replied. “You’re a real, living, breathing, human being who is ridiculously smart, and can read crime scenes better than anyone I know. You just-you _get_ inside their head Cas, you do that with a ridiculous amount of finesse.”

  


“It’s not something I advertise Dean, I’m not exactly proud that I can understand serial killers, murderers, and rapists.” Castiel slid out of the car and Dean followed him, cutting him off before he could step up to the crime scene tape. “Dean-”

  


“I won’t force you to stay on Cas, but I think you should. Okay?” Dean spun around and removed his badge to show his ID to the cop standing by the tape. “He’s with me.” The cop nodded and Dean led Castiel through the scene to where the body was waiting.

  


“Agent Winchester, it’s good to see-Dr. Novak, it’s good to see you again.” Garth smiled and walked over to hand Dean a file. “Same guy, pretty sure. It’s a botchery though, it’s pretty gross. Sorry.”

Dean glanced at the file before handing it back to Garth and walking over to the body. The first thing Dean noted was that the body lacked a head, and as Garth commented, it was a complete botchery. Dean had seen a lot of bodies in his day but he could still feel his stomach twist and bile fill the back of throat at the sight. On the concrete wall, written in what Dean could only assume to be blood, was a Bible passage: _An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified._

  


“What’s that mean?” Dean asked, gesturing at the wall.

  


Garth shrugged. “Beats me. But you were right, the guy must be a religious nut.”

  


Dean startled slightly when Castiel appeared next to him, glancing down at the body. “You think he’s a religious freak, Dr. Novak?”

  


“I don’t know,” Castiel replied quietly. “Will you excuse me, please? I need to view this-”

  


“Right. Right.” Dean nodded and gestured for the others to clear out and give Castiel some space, going to stand off to the side with Garth.

  


“He gonna do that weird thing he does?” Garth asked quietly.

  


Dean nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for what felt like the millionth time. “God, why can’t this guy just give it a damn rest?”

  


“Oh, there was something different about this one,” Garth said quickly. “I almost forgot to tell you, but he was sodomized.”

  


The weight of Garth’s words did not fully sink in until he saw Castiel kneel in the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

  


“I mean he was raped.”

  


“Was there DNA?”

  


“Nah.” Garth shook his head. “Guy was too smart for that.”

  


Dean went to say something else but then he saw Castiel stand up and then soon after, he collapsed. “Cas!” Jerking, Dean almost shoved Garth out of the way to rush over and cradle Castiel’s skull. “Cas-Cas-hey-hey-”

  


Castiel’s eyelids fluttered and then slowly he began to blink and wake up. “Dean-”

  


“Hey man, what-are you okay? Jesus, I knew we shouldn’t have done this. Don’t move, okay?” The EMTs were already heading over to look Castiel over and Dean was just hoping he hadn’t disturbed the crime scene too much. They were putting Castiel on a stretcher and Dean stood up with him, not wanting Castiel to leave his sight.

  


“Dean-this one-it’s different...the man...he’s...it’s different-” Castiel mumbled.

  


“What do you mean?” He tried to follow along but the medics kept pushing him back. “Cas? What do you mean?!”

  


Castiel glanced down at him, his eyes wild and afraid. “He’s got a new personality.”

  


           

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


The clock on the wall was ticking so loudly, as if the hands were held down by weights. The liquid in the IV felt cold as it entered his body, and it made his arm tingle. The nurses had said something about saline and Castiel figured he was being administered the drug to keep his body hydrated. He could hear Dean Winchester’s voice in the hallway, meaning he had finally bullied his way into see him. Castiel couldn’t help but feel the twinge of a smile flit across his lips.

           

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted as he walked in. “Took me forever to get back here, I had to use every trick in the damn book to see you. They said they admitted you…”

  


Castiel nodded heavily. “Yes, I told them I was fine, that this was not something that occurred often enough to be worrisome but they insisted they run some more tests. I’m sure I’m fine.”

  


Dean sank down into the chair that was nearest to his bedside. “You feel okay? What’s this?” He gestured at the IV in Castiel’s hand.

  


“Saline. They’re just trying to keep me hydrated.” Castiel waved Dean’s worry away with a hand. “I feel fine, Dean. I must have stood up too fast, that’s all.”

  


“Cas, you said that the killer has another personality? What’s that mean, exactly?” Dean clasped his hands together and leaned forward to stare at him inquisitively.

  


Castiel blinked and tilted his head. “I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

  


“Cas you said, before they put you in the ambulance, you said something about the killer getting a new personality.”

  


The body had been butchered terribly, by a hand that did not or could not remember how to kill correctly. There had also been evidence of sodomization. That had not been a factor in the other victims but the other M.O.’s were the same. “Yes,” He whispered. “Yes I remember now...the man was sodomized-”

  


“Yeah, Garth said that. Why do you think he has a new personality?”

  


“Because the others don’t have the confidence or the desire to sodomize their victims. They don’t want to be seen as someone who rapes and who commits sodomy. This new personality doesn’t care or...if we are going with the idea that this man is a homosexual male who is picking out closeted homosexual victims, then perhaps this is him...being angry about his victims not being out about their sexuality.” Castiel shook his head because he knew his theories were not as sound as they usually were; there was not grounding key evidence to make him feel confident. “But I could be wrong.”

  


“You’re never wrong,” Dean whispered. “That’s what makes you unique Cas. So, do you know any other things that could be a key identifier on this guy?”

  


Castiel shrugged. “I don’t--I don’t know Dean…. I mean, he could be a man of God, he could be someone in the Church, or he could just be a man-”

  


“Who has multiple personalities who all kill differently.” Dean slid his hand to Castiel’s wrist, squeezing gently. “It’s okay Cas. You don’t have to strain yourself.”

  


Denial was usually his response to anything that could make him appear sick or ill; he was fine, he wasn’t straining himself, he wasn’t feeling distressed, but that would all be a lie and Castiel suddenly did not feel comfortable in lying. Instead, he took a deep breath and allowed Dean to touch him. “I’m sorry Dean, I’m usually more...sound….I mean I’m usually more mentally stable than this.”

  


“You okay?” Dean squeezed his wrist again, rubbing his fingers gently along his pulse.

  


“I don’t know, I don’t know-I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Castiel pulled his hand away and ran his fingers through his hair.

  


“Hey-hey it’s _okay_. Shh, it’s okay.” Dean took Castiel’s hands in his, holding them both gently. “I’m here Cas….and I’m not here as Agent Winchester, I’m here as Dean Winchester. The guy who cares about you beyond the business relationship we have.”

  


Castiel looked over at Dean and blinked; Dean’s eyes were green, but the victim’s head was missing. “We don’t know what color the victim’s eyes are,” he whispered suddenly.

  


“What?”

  


“The head was gone, we don’t know what color the eyes were. He always picked men with green eyes. You have green eyes.” He licked his lips and his heart began to flutter faster in his chest, beating heavily against his ribs.

  


“What do I have to do with anything?” Dean asked. Dean’s eyes narrowed and his head titled; Castiel almost smiled because Dean had learned that behavior from him.

  


“Probably nothing...it’s just something I noticed.” Castiel squeezed Dean’s hands back. “I’m fine Dean. I’m going to be fine, but I can’t continue with helping you, I’m sorry. I am pulling myself away from this case, for my mental stability.”

  


Dean sighed but nodded. “Okay Cas. Okay.”

  


“Thank you.” Castiel leaned over to place a light kiss to Dean’s lips. “Your lips are soft.”

  


Dean smiled at him. “Your lips are perfect.”

  


Castiel smiled back. “Yeah. We are perfect.”

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“Dean, _go home_ ,” Bobby said to Dean as he gathered up his own belongings to leave.

  


“Yeah, yeah.” He had been staring at the case files for what felt like forever since he had left Castiel at the hospital. “I’m go-”

  


His phone was ringing.

  


“Or not.” Dean sighed and answered a mumbled hello as he ran a hand over his face. Sleep deprivation was slowly catching up to him like a bad habit. “Wait-who-....yeah I’m coming right now. Thanks.”

  


“Who’s that?” Bobby asked him as Dean stood up quickly to pull on his coat.

  


“Hospital, something’s going on with Cas that I’m going to want to see, according to the doctor. Guess I won’t be going home after all.”

  


“Keep me posted.”

  


Dean saluted weakly before going back to his car and once again, over to the hospital. Castiel’s doctor was waiting for him at the front desk, and he looked concerned. “Hey Doctor…?”

  


“Tran,” came the quick reply. “You can just call me Kevin, it’s just us, Agent Winchester. You’re going to want to see this-... it’s….bizarre is...me putting it lightly.”

  


Dean frowned and followed Kevin back to where Castiel was sitting in a room at a table, his fingers drumming along the metal table. There was a viewing window where there were two other doctors sitting at computers. “What’s going on?”

  


Kevin held up a finger and then leaned over to grasp onto a microphone that must have been how he was talking to Castiel. “It’s Dr. Tran again, I brought a friend with me, could you introduce yourself to him?”

  


“Introduce himself-....okay I don’t know what you guys are smoking back here but _that_ ,” Dean pointed at Castiel. “Is Cas.”

  


Kevin glanced back at him and covered the microphone. “Just wait-”

  


Dean glanced into the room and frowned when the man leaned forward, and his eyes, while Castiel’s eyes, were colder and more disturbed than the eyes he remembered. “My name?”

  


Kevin uncovered the microphone. “Yes. Please. Just one more time.”

  


Castiel smiled and the gesture made a shiver run down Dean’s spine. “You know who I am.”

  


“Yes, yes _we_ do, but my friend here isn’t familiar with you. Could you state your name one more time for him? And then no more introductions, I promise.”

  


Castiel glared and looked irritated. Almost offended; as if he could not believe someone didn’t know who he was. “It is I, God, your Lord and pitiless Savior,” came the reply that made Dean’s blood run cold.

 

 


	2. milieu

“He thinks he’s _God_?” Bobby stared at Dean in disbelief.

  


“Yeah I know,” Dean muttered. “That isn’t all…”

  


_“I’m sorry,_ who _do you think you are?” Dean leaned forward to stare at Castiel, trying to figure out where he had misread his friend over the years._

_“I don’t think,” Castiel replied coldly. “I know who I am. I am your God.”_

_“You think you’re God-”_

_“I_ am _God!” Castiel roared._

_Dean flinched, slowly recoiling. “Okay, you’re God-” He went to leave but Dean paused as Castiel flinched and blinked and the mask of coldness went away and was replaced with someone else. Again, this person, Dean knew was not Castiel. This man looked afraid, as if he could not believe he was sitting in a hospital. “Cas?”_

_“What? No. Who’s Cas?” the man spat at him. “I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Novak.”_

_“_ Jimmy _Novak? I’m looking for Castiel Novak, do you know who that is?” Talking to Castiel’s apparent personalities was the weirdest experience he had ever had._

_“Cas-Castiel? Yes. Yes. Yes Castiel is my twin. My twin.”_

_“Your twin? I didn’t know Castiel had a twin.” Dean glanced back at the window at the doctors before turning his eyes back on Jimmy._

_“Yes. Yes. I am Castiel’s twin.”_

_“You said you hadn’t heard of Cas,” Dean pointed out gently._

_JImmy tilted his head to the side, his eyes wild and afraid. “I’m not supposed to talk about him,” he whispered._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Castiel is_ bad _,” Jimmy whispered as if they were conspiring. “Castiel is a bad boy, Mother says so.”_

_“What do you mean?” Dean asked slowly. “Did your mother hurt Castiel?”_

_“Yes. Oh yes. She didn’t like that he was….into boys. It made her angry. She would beat him up.”_

_“Your mother abused you? Did she hit you too?”_

_Jimmy shook his head. “No. No I was a good boy. I didn’t-I didn’t...I wanted to get married and have children. Castiel wanted to meet with boys behind the bleachers and get on his knees for them. Castiel was a bad boy.”_

_Dean sighed and sat back in his chair slowly. “Is there anyone else I should know about? I mean I’ve met you, and I know Castiel….and God? He’s somehow in there too?”_

_Jimmy gasped and looked offended. “Don’t blaspheme!”_

_“Sorry,” Dean replied. “Is there anyone else I need to know about Jimmy?”_

_“Well, there is Emmanuel.”_

_“Emmanuel? Who is Emmanuel?”_

_“Oh, he’s-” Jimmy began to smile and he seemed excited all of a sudden. “Emmanuel is a faith healer. He heals the lost and sinful.”_

_“A faith healer? How do you know Emmanuel? Is he a brother of yours too?” Dean asked slowly._

_Jimmy smiled broadly. “He’s very serious. I doubt he would want to talk to you.”_

_“Is he related to you, Jimmy? To you and Castiel?” Dean ran a hand over his face again, growing tired of this circular game._

_“He’s our cousin,” Jimmy replied._

_“Can I talk to Castiel now, Jimmy? It’s real important that I speak with Castiel.”_

_Jimmy glanced around and shook his head. “You can’t speak with Castiel right now,” he whispered._

_“Why not?”_

_“He’s in trouble.”_

_Dean took a deep breath. “What does that mean?”_

_“He’s-” Jimmy flinched and blinked and Dean watched was the cold mask returned, followed by a colder smile. “Hello Agent Winchester. You’re done speaking with Jimmy now.”_

  


“So you’re telling me that Castiel has had….other people livin’ in his damn melon and we had no idea?” Bobby shook his head slowly. “Balls.”

  


“Yeah tell me about it,” he replied tiredly.

  


“You think he’s the one?” Bobby asked after some silence.

  


“Do I think he’s the one, what?”

  


“Killer.”

  


Dean jumped and stared at Bobby in shock. “Wait-you think-...that _Cas_ is the one killing these people? He’s trying to help us _catch_ the guy, Bobby! Why would Cas-”

  


“Because Cas ain’t the one killing people, Dean. His other personalities are.” Bobby leaned back, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.

  


“You can’t prove that Cas did any of those murders-” Dean said quickly.

  


“I know. But you’re going to question him...and his mini me’s as necessary. Understand?”

  


He wanted to protest; to put up a fight, and claim that his interests were not diluted enough for this job. But at the same time, he wanted to know firsthand if Castiel had been the murderer all along. “If it him, he’ll get off on an insanity plea. You know that-”

  


“We’ll see,” Bobby replied dismissively.

  


When Bobby used that finished tone, Dean knew that the conversation had ended and he needed to get his ass out of the office and off to wherever Bobby had assigned him. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  


“Good...remember, we can’t arrest him yet. See if he’ll talk to you anyway.”

  


Dean nodded and stood. The hospital still had Castiel admitted, but now he had been placed in the psych ward. Dean hated the psych ward; he had spent too much time there because his younger brother had believed that he had been possessed by the Devil. Sam had been such a normal kid and then after he had graduated from college, he had had a psychotic break. Convinced he was possessed by Satan, Sam had killed his roommate and girlfriend. Sam had been sent to a court ordered psych ward, and Dean had spent too many days trying to get through to Sam who still believed he was being possessed by Lucifer.

  


“Good morning Agent Winchester, I assume you’re here to see Dr. Novak?” Meg, Castiel’s nurse, purred as soon as he reached the fifth floor.

  


“Yep. I gotta ask him a few questions. It _is_ Dr. Novak in there today, right?” Dean glanced over as Meg smirked knowingly.

  


“Yep. The good ol’ doctor is awake and alive in there today.”

  


The door buzzed and unlocked, allowing Dean and Meg to walk inside. He tried not to flinch or look at the other patients roaming the halls and lounges as they walked down to Castiel’s room together. “Is he alone in that room?”

  


“You mean does he have a bunk buddy or do you mean…?”

  


“Does he have a roommate?”

  


Meg cast a smile over her shoulder. “No, Castiel is alone...after Dr. Tran looked him over some more, he was deemed too dangerous to have a roommate.” Meg knocked once before opening the door and Dean followed on her heels. “Good morning Dr. Novak, you have a visitor.”

  


Castiel, Dean could see that it was Castiel, turned to look at him from where he sat at the window. “Hello Dean.”

  


“Hey Cas,” Dean whispered. “Can we talk for a bit?”

  


“Of course.” Castiel nodded at Meg before shifting so he could face Dean in his chair. “Please, sit.”

  


“Yeah…look, I don’t wanna do this but I have to, okay?” Dean sighed before dragging a chair over to where Castiel sat and slowly joining him.

  


“Of course, Dean. Please. Go ahead.”

  


“Why didn’t you tell me Cas?” Dean whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had...a...disorder?” He knew what it was like to deal with a person who had split personalities, but Castiel, as far as he could tell, had three. Sam had only had one, even though that one had been Lucifer.

  


A weak smile flitted across Castiel’s face. “Yes, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Castiel Novak and I have a dissociative disorder….doesn’t exactly scream the perfect picture of mental healthy, now does it?”

  


Dean stared at Castiel with a hand to his mouth, rubbing his lips and chin in slow circles. “You should have disclosed that information to us Cas...especially with this killer on the loose...I mean not to alarm you but Agent Singer seems to think that you might be the man we’re looking for.”

  


“Agent Singer thinks I’m the man who killed those other men? Just because I have...personalities?” Castiel whispered, clearly offended.

  


“Cas, one of your... _personalities_ , thinks he’s God, okay? The other one thinks he’s your twin, and then the _other_ one thinks that he’s your cousin who’s a damn faith healer. So yeah, I think you’re looking might suspicious.”

  


He didn’t want to believe that Castiel could _be_ the serial killer; not the man he had worshipped carnally, kissed good morning, and made breakfast. Castiel Novak was not a killer, but maybe Jimmy Novak, Emmanuel, and _God_ were.

  


“I told you that that man had four personalities. I have three,” Castiel replied quietly. Dean noted that his cheeks were flushed in clear embarrassment and shame. “I realize they are unsettling, but I have medication Dean. I take my medication, they hardly _ever_ disrupt my normal day-to-day life.”

  


“Then what was that display at the hospital Cas?” He stared at Castiel helplessly. If Castiel was so mentally stable, why had he snapped all of a sudden? And how had he hid it from the FBI for so long, and _why_ had he hid the disorder?

  


“I told you Dean,” Castiel said shakily. “I shouldn’t be working for the FBi anymore. I can’t-I just _can’t_...it upset me...I lost control of myself Dean….and that’s why that...as you say... _display_ happened.”

  


Dean licked his lips. “So you’re saying the crime scene is what triggered the problem?”

  


“Yes, Dean. That is what I’m saying. I’m sorry if you don’t want to believe me-”

  


“No. No I believe you Cas...and like you said, you think that guy had four personalities?” Dean pulled out his notebook to make notes.

  


“Yes, Dean. The last...hopefully the last….personality raped his victim. The others did not….however the message on the wall is odd.”

  


Dean glanced up from taking notes. “Why?”

  


“Because it was similar to other notes left at the other crime scenes...by I believe the second personality? But the second doesn’t rape...so...it’s as if…” Castiel blinked and frowned. “No, nevermind-”

  


“Cas go ahead,” Dean said quickly.

  


“It’s as if the other personalities were breaking in the host.”

  


Dean frowned and cocked his head to one side. “What’s that mean?”

  


“I think, the man who raped his victim, was the host...and the others were….in a way….breaking him into the idea of killing people. I know that sounds...crazy…” Castiel shrugged. “I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

  


“But it could be,” Dean said.

  


“I suppose, yes. But I don’t really know, Dean...I’ve never seen it firsthand before.” Castiel held up his hands, and Dean could see them shaking. “I don’t...I mean I don’t know, I’m sorry...I wish I could tell you more. I really do.”

  


“No it’s fine Cas, you’ve been a big help.” Dean smiled and set his notebook aside. “So, once you get some more meds in your system, you’ll be okay?”

  


Castiel nodded. “Yes.”

  


“Did you really have a twin?”

  


“Pardon?”

  


Dean bit his lip. “Did you really have a twin, Cas? I mean...do you have a twin?”

  


“Oh...you’re talking about Jimmy.” Castiel’s eyes fell to his lap and he appeared to make himself smaller, as if he were ashamed of himself. “No...no I don’t have a twin.”

  


“So, you made him up?”

  


“My mother was...an abusive woman-I …. according to the doctors, I made Jimmy up to escape my own reality...so no, no I don’t actually have a twin brother. He’s not real.” Castiel flinched and stared at Dean sadly. “I’m sorry-”

  


“For what?” Dean asked quietly.

  


“For being...like this…”

  


Dean leaned forward to touch Castiel’s chin, tilting his face up; he had tears streaming along his face, like streaks of crystal. “It’s okay Cas,” Dean whispered. “It’s okay. Really.”

  


Castiel huffed out a breath and sniffed. “Thank you Dean...for not...thinking I’m….nuts.”

  


“Well you’re medicated so that’s good. And I don’t think you killed those people.”

  


Castiel smiled, completely and utterly relieved. “Thank you Dean, really...I-can I please-...I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

  


Dean nodded and slid to cup Castiel’s face in his hands; he gave a smile when Castiel slid his hands to hold Dean’s in place. “I won’t make you do this anymore Cas.”

  


“Okay...okay..” Castiel smiled weakly again and leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth. “You know, I think i’m in love with you Dean Winchester.”

  


Dean smirked and kissed Castiel back. “I think I’m in love with you too, Dr. Novak.”

  


“When I get out of here, maybe we can go on a real date?”

  


Dean nodded. “Yeah. We can.”

  


Castiel smiled and pulled Dean close. “Good. I look forward to it.”

 

 


	3. fin

“I really don’t think he did it Bobby.”

  


Bobby had been insisting that they gather up enough evidence to arrest Castiel but Dean couldn’t even gather enough evidence to get a search warrant for Castiel’s house.

  


“You don’t think the doctor is capable of these murders,” Bobby supplied.

  


“No Bobby, I don’t think Cas is capable-”

  


“But are his personalities capable?” Bobby countered, which had become his main counter point ever since Castiel’s condition had been made known.

  


“I don’t know! But don’t you think we’d find some type of evidence on him? I mean, why would Castiel be trying to help us catch the killer if he’s the one doing the killings?” Dean held up his hands helplessly. “That makes no sense to me.”

  


“This whole situation isn’t making much sense.” Bobby sighed and flipped open a case file to look over the photographs again. “Castiel may not be aware of what he has done until it’s over-”

  


“ _If_ Castiel is the killer, I’m pretty sure he’d turn himself in. Cas isn’t the kind of guy to kill people Bobby, and I’m sure Cas wants to save lives, that’s why he was helping us. He’d turn himself in... _and_ Cas said the guy had four personalities. He was sure of that. Cas doesn’t have four-”

  


“The fact that Dr. Novak has three other people in his head is enough for me. I want you to find evidence, Agent...and if Dr. Novak is so innocent, then he’ll let you search his home. Go ask him and see if he’ll let us take a look without a search warrant. If he has nothing to hide, then he’ll let you take a look around.” Bobby shrugged and handed Dean the case file. “I want this guy off the streets. I know you don’t want to think it’s Castiel, but you have to let your personal feelings go.”

  


Dean sighed and picked up the file again. “Okay. I’m going.”

  


Bobby was right, he did not want to believe Castiel could do such heinous crimes, but he was also right about Dean needing to let his personal feelings go. The hospital had discharged Castiel recently back to his home, with the promise of seeking outpatient care, and continuing to take his medication.The drive to Castiel’s house was not long enough in Dean’s opinion; he did not want to search Castiel’s home because if he found something he would be the one walking Castiel out of his house in handcuffs. He did not want to arrest the man he believed in.

  


The old Victorian seemed to loom over Dean’s head and into the overcast sky today. The image was making chills run up and down his spine as he came to ring the doorbell. Eerie silence followed the ringing and Dean realized the house and the street was disturbingly quiet today. His watch read that it was a little after ten in the morning; there should have been more activity on the street but there was not even the sound of a dog barking. When Castiel did not come to the door, Dean rang the bell again until he finally saw the figural shadow come up to the door and pull it open.

  


“Hey Cas,” he greeted with a tight smile.

  


“Good morning Dean,” Castiel returned with a smile of his own. Castiel’s was decidedly more friendly than his own.

  


“I hate to um...impose, but I was wondering if I could take a look around your house? It’d cool Bobby’s jets off your ass and hopefully I won’t have to bother you again about this.” Dean shrugged slightly. “Sorry.”

  


“Oh, oh of course. Come in.” Castiel stepped aside to allow Dean into his house, gently shutting the door as soon as Dean was inside. “Look wherever you like.”

  


“Thanks Cas.” In Dean’s opinion this was embarrassing; searching Castiel’s home as if he were a criminal. “I really am sorry about this, I’m not trying to make a mockery of you or anything.”

  


“Well I just want to help Dean, I don’t mind helping you.” Castiel followed Dean around the house as they went from room to room. Eventually they came to the basement door but when Dean went to open it, he noticed the door was locked. “Oh,” Castiel smiled in embarrassment. “Sorry, let me go get the key.”

  


“You lock your basement door?” Dean frowned and he wanted to roll his eyes at his own suspicions. Castiel could lock his basement door if he wanted to, this was his house.

  


“Yes,” Castiel replied as he disappeared off towards his kitchen until he returned with a key. “I had an accident once, falling down the stairs. Ever since then I’ve been kind of paranoid at just leaving the door open so I lock it. It’s a little dank down there, I apologize. It’s an old house.”

  


“All houses gotta have their quirks,” Dean replied with a smile as Castiel finally opened the door and flipped the light switch on.

  


“And sorry for the smell, I think it’s mildew. I keep forgetting to have someone come and take a look at it. Is it alright if I stay up here? I really am paranoid about the stairs now…” Castiel blushed and gave Dean a shy smile.

  


“Yeah sure man. I’ll be back.” Dean nodded and headed down the old stairs until he came to the bottom and his nose wrinkled at the smell. “Seriously Cas, have someone look at your basement,” he called back up the stairs before taking a look around. There was another door off to the side that looked promising.

  


Turning towards the door, Dean walked over to pull it open; it took a few yanks and Dean’s nose wrinkled as the smell only became worse. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered as he finally got the door open. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw inside. Spinning around, Dean startled at seeing Castiel standing there with him. “Cas-”

  


“I’m sorry Dean,” Castiel whispered. “But you got too close.”

  


Dean went to grab his gun but Castiel had his throat in hand and then he felt his head smack against concrete. Darkness swam his vision and he couldn’t keep it from closing his eyes.

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to hurt him. I like Dean-”

  


He groaned and slid his eyes slowly open; the room was dark and dank, he could hardly make out anything at first. As his eyes adjusted, his body jerked when he realized he was in between two other naked bodies. He could hear Castiel muttering to himself, and his immediate desire to panic filled him but Dean stopped himself. He couldn’t panic; he had to assess the situation.

  


He was in Castiel’s basement still. There were bodies in Castiel’s basement; he was lying in between two of them. His wrists were tied, his head was hurting from where Castiel had slammed him back into the concrete wall. He was naked. Craning his neck, Dean tried to look back at where he could see Castiel pacing and talking to himself. Jesus, Castiel really had snapped. If Castiel was still in control, he could probably talk his way out of this.

  


“Cas,” he whispered, watching as Castiel jerked to a stop and spun around to face him. “Hey….hey it’s okay-let’s-let’s talk Cas.”

  


“Dean-”

  


“Let’s just talk, okay?”

  


Castiel stormed over and grabbed his hair to sit him up roughly. “Shut up Dean.”

  


“Cas, let’s talk. It’s just us. It’s just us here-....Cas you’ve got bodies in your basement, you know how this looks to me…” Dean flinched when Castiel gripped him harder and moved so they could be face to face.

  


“Shut up Dean,” Castiel said again. “I’m sorry but you got too close. I have to do this.”

  


“You don’t have to do anything Cas. It’s alright. You can let me go. You like helping people Cas, you like saving lives, that’s why you were helping us.”

  


When Castiel smiled, Dean felt his skin crawl. “You think I was helping you because I liked to help people? Because I liked to save lives? Oh Dean... _Dean_ …” Castiel shook his head. “Dean, I wasn’t helping you because I liked to save lives. I helped you because I liked to get new ideas. I was running out of ideas you know. The more crimes I saw, the more ideas I got to store away. It was quite entertaining to watch you idiots try to chase me for the past six months. To make you believe that it wasn’t me, but I got to return to my crime scenes and watch you morons try and figure it out.”

  


Dean took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but his heart was racing and he had a feeling Castiel could see how afraid he was. “Cas this isn’t you,” he whispered.

  


“But it _is_ me Dean.”

  


“I heard you talking...you didn’t want to hurt me… you like me…” He hoped that that was true; if he could play off of Castiel’s love for him, he could probably walk out of here alive.

  


“I _do_ like you Dean…..but the others don’t like you,” Castiel replied sadly. “They think you’re going to turn me in...they think we will go to jail because of you.”

  


“Cas, I thought you were taking medication-” Dean began but Castiel shook him and he shut up quickly.

  


“Shut up,” Castiel growled. “I’m in control. I am _in_ control. I don’t need the medication Dean. You know, it was really fun to make you believe that the killer you’re looking for had a fourth personality….well they do, and it is me by the way, it is me. I did those things...I mean I didn’t do _all_ of them….Jimmy, Emmanuel, and my favorite, _God_ , helped me of course. But I knew what I was doing, when I killed the last victim.”

  


“You raped them…” Dean stared at Castiel in disbelief.

  


“I didn’t _rape_ him,” Castiel snarled. “We had sex. We went out together, I picked him up, we had sex together. But then he tells me that we can’t be _out_ together. That we have to be quiet about it. That he can’t be seen with me….so yeah, I killed him. That was all me.”

  


Dean frowned and he remembered how Castiel had made a comment about the killer being a man who hunted down other men who were in the closet. “So this guy upset you and you _killed_ him Cas?”

  


Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Yes….and I don’t want to hurt you Dean but you promised me a date.”

  


“I did,” Dean agreed slowly.

  


“But you never took me out.” Castiel pouted and Dean’s stomach churned. “You kept giving me excuses.”

  


He _had_ been giving Castiel excuses for not going on a date, but they had all been legitimate. First of all, Castiel had been in the hospital, and then after he had been released, Dean had wanted him to readjust, and then he had become swamped with work. Trying to catch this serial killer and get him off of the streets. There had been no time for dates.

  


“Cas-I-I hadn’t-I haven’t had _time_ to go on a date,” Dean said quickly.

  


“You’re in the closet, aren’t you?” Castiel asked.

  


“Well, I’m not exactly _out_ but I’m not ashamed of myself either Cas….but do you think I’m going to go on a date with you _know_? Cas, people know I’m here. They’re going to come looking for me. You’re going to go to jail….you’re threatening me, and do you think I’m going to to want to date you now? Hm?”

  


Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes, as if this whole conversation was boring him now. “I can’t decide who wants to kill you more. They’re all pretty eager, maybe we’ll make your death special. Maybe I’ll let them all come out one by one and take a piece of you each.”

  


The smell of urine filled Dean’s nose and Castiel glared at him, releasing his hair so he could stand up and get away from Dean. Breathing shakily, Dean lowered his eyes to wear he had wet himself, and the dirt was now wet and Dean felt the shame fill him soon after. He did not want to die like this; not at the hands of the man he fallen in love with. But maybe that man had never existed, maybe that had always been a ruse. Castiel was after all, an excellent actor.

  


Dean slowly laid back down on the ground and stared up at the wooden ceiling; Castiel was whistling and he could hear him sharpening a blade. Dean wriggled his wrists desperately but whatever Castiel had binded him with was too tight and as far as he could tell, had no weak spots. The stench of the bodies was making him nauseous and he wanted to just close his eyes and pretend this was not happening. He was going to walk out of here because Bobby was going to realize he had not come back yet, and he probably should have been back by now. Someone would come looking for him.

  


Castiel came back into his line of vision and he smiled. “You think someone is going to come find you, don’t you?”

  


“People know I’m here,” Dean whispered. “Bobby will come looking for me Cas.”

  


“It’ll be too late then,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry.”

  


“Cas-” Dean cut off because Castiel’s face disappeared and someone else came to him then. He didn’t know this mask. “Who are you?”

  


“Emmanuel.”

  


“I wanna talk to Cas,” Dean said sternly.

  


“Castiel is not home right now,” Emmanuel replied as he slowly knelt down on the ground. “I’m going to help you Dean. Purify you.”

  


Dean took nervous breaths through his nose and flinched away from Emmanuel as he reached for him. “No-”

  


“Everything will be just fine. I’m here to help you.”

  


Dean wriggled and struggled but Emmanuel lifted him up and Dean stared into the eyes that were so familiar and yet so strange to him now. “Let me talk to Cas-”

  


“You’re done talking to Castiel right now.” Emmanuel stood and pulled Dean up to his feet as well, forcefully walking him over to a tub filled with dirty water.

  


“Let me go damn it-I wanna talk to Cas _right now_ ,” Dean growled, as he continued to struggle.

  


“I have to baptize you first,” Emmanuel said gently. “If you struggle, I’ll just hold you down there longer. My advice, is don’t struggle. Deep breath, Dean.”

  


Dean gasped but then he was being dunked into the water which was ice cold; he struggled and flailed as the icy water bit into his skin. The cold was so bitter that it made his whole entire body ache and tingle. He could hear Emmanuel saying something to him but the voice was muffled and Dean only struggled harder. He was running out of air; his body felt like a dead weight. Before he could pass out, he was being yanked out and pushed down on the ground. The man that was staring at him, his eyes wide with fear, was not Emmanuel.

  


Precious air filled his lungs and Dean cough and sputtered water all over himself. “Who-....Jimmy. Jimmy?”

  


Jimmy nodded. If Dean remembered correctly, Jimmy was the most timid out of all of them. “Dean….”

  


“Jimmy you don’t want to do this,” Dean insisted weakly as he continued to cough. “Untie me, okay? Let me go-”

  


“I-I can’t, I’ll get in trouble,” Jimmy whispered.

  


“Let me go Jimmy. _Please_. Where are my clothes? Bring me my stuff.” His heart was hammering so hard, it made his body tremble. “Please.”

  


“Okay,” Jimmy whispered.

  


Dean watched in relief as Jimmy weakly walked over to a table where Dean could see his clothing and effects lying. “Untie me,” he said as Jimmy returned to lay the pile down beside him. “Please.”

  


Jimmy nodded and began to untie Dean’s wrist. “I’m sorry Dean-”

  


“Yeah I know,” Dean replied quickly and he could have sobbed in relief when he felt his wrists come free. “Thank you Jimmy.” Dean fumbled through his clothing for his gun, turning to point it at Jimmy’s forehead.

  


Jimmy startled and fell back away from him. “Don’t kill me-”

  


“I want to talk to Castiel, Jimmy.” Dean stared coldly. “Right now.”

  


“You can’t,” Jimmy whined. “I’m sorry-”

  


Dean snatched up his clothing, still pointing the gun at Jimmy’s forehead; he didn’t have time to get redressed. He needed to get back to his car and call for backup. Backing up slowly, Dean glanced only once to see where the doorway was so he could get out of this room and to the stairs. Jimmy remained on the floor of the basement and as soon as Dean cleared the room, he turned to rush over to the stairs. An agonized scream burst from his throat he when he felt his foot slam down on a nail that was jutting up out of the stairs.

  


Footsteps were following him and Dean yanked his foot free and began to scramble up the stairs but someone had his ankle. “Jimmy let me go damn it-”

  


There was a cold laugh. “Jimmy’s gone,” came the cold, chilling voice of the man who believed he was God. “And you’ve been a terrible sheep.”

  


Dean twisted and tried to turn the gun on him but he was being yanked down the stairs, and the gun was slipping from his fingers. This time, he did sob when he was flipped over to stare up at blue eyes. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me go.” Begging was not a thing Dean did easily but he wanted to walk out of here alive; he didn’t want to end up like the others.

  


“You had your chance Dean. Now shhh-shhh-no crying allowed. Let’s go.”

  


Dean sobbed again and he screamed as loudly as he could but he was being dragged across the floor and back into the room that smelled.

  


“Moonlight Sonata is my favorite,” came a familiar voice. It was Castiel. “Do you like classical music Dean?”

  


Dean whimpered and stared at the dead man lying next to him. “Yeah,” he whispered.

  


“You do? Oh good.” Dean listened as Castiel walked over to a stereo and flipped on the familiar Beethoven piece. “We’re going to have a good time together Dean.”

  
Dean closed his eyes and Castiel started to hum again.

 


	4. après

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Via popular request, I've added a final scene. Enjoy.

“Afternoon, Dr. Novak.”

  


Castiel smiled at Agent Singer warmly as he continued to clean the dirt from his hands. “Can I help you?”

  


“Ugh yeah, um...you seen Agent Winchester?” Bobby asked and Castiel noted his nervousness. “He was supposed to come by to take a look at your house a few hours ago and I haven’t heard from him.”

  


“Oh.” He glanced around and shrugged. “I haven’t see him, Agent Singer, I apologize.”

  


Bobby frowned, but he slowly nodded. “Busy gardening?”

  


He grinned. “Yes, actually. I’ve just planted some new flowers for my garden out back. Would you like to come in? Perhaps, Agent Winchester will arrive soon.”

  


Bobby nodded weakly. “Sure, sorry to bother you.”

  


He waved his hand and allowed Bobby to come inside. “I don’t mind, I don’t have many visitors anymore.”

  


“Are you not taking patients, Dr. Novak?”

  


“Oh well, after my...episode, I was advised to wait until I saw patients again. So at the moment, no, I am not.” Castiel led Bobby down the hallway and into the kitchen where he gestured for the man to sit at his table. “Would you like some tea? I grow the herbs myself.”

  


Bobby smiled and nodded. “Sounds great, Dr. Novak.”

  


“Oh you can call me Castiel, Agent Singer. We don’t have to be so formal here.” He glanced over at the backyard where he had buried the older bodies just recently. Dean was still in the basement; he would have to take care of him later. He ran his fingers over the labels on the herbs he put in his tea.

  


_Conium._

He smiled and calmly placed several leaves in a cup. “I hope Agent Winchester is okay,” he commented after there was enough silence to be considered awkward.

  


“Yes, I hope so too,” Bobby muttered.

  


“I’m sure he’s fine. Perhaps he became distracted, you know how he is sometimes.” The kettle whistled and Castiel hummed contentedly before pouring the hot water into the teacup. Bobby Singer sat his table and Castiel smiled slightly in amusement; they were all stupid swine, really. Even Dean, who he had found to be entertaining, was not very bright. He carried the cup over and placed it gently down in front of Bobby with another smile. “Here you go.”

  


“Thank you,” Bobby replied with a nod as he blew on the tea, slowly drinking the contents. “Very good.”

  


Castiel nodded and sat down in the chair opposite him. “Yes, I take pride in my herbal concoctions.”

  


“Hm….I apologize for this mess that we have you in, Doctor...gotta cover all our bases.”

  


“Yes, I understand.” Castiel sat back and watched as Bobby finished the tea. “I hope you catch the man soon.”

  


“So do we.” A fleeting smile passed over the older man’s face but Castiel could still see that Bobby was suspicious of him. “Do you mind if I take a look around myself, since I’m here.”

  


Castiel smiled and gestured around them. “Please, go ahead.”

  


Bobby nodded and slowly stood. “Thank you Doctor.”

  


“My pleasure.” Castiel smiled knowingly and took the cup, walking it back over to the sink. He began to hum _Moonlight Sonata_ again; it was going to be a productive day.

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


The cold concrete floor was making him shiver relentlessly and his legs ached; Castiel had cut the ligaments in his knees to make walking nearly impossible. He stared up at the ceiling and sobbed. A dirty rag had been tied around his mouth to keep him quiet. The silence had stretched on for what felt like hours, until heavy footsteps above his head made his heart leap. There was a voice, other than Castiel’s leaking through the floorboards.

  


Bobby Singer was here.

  


Screaming was pointless but he tried anyway. He screamed through the gag but there was no point; the basement was deep and the gag was only making him drool all over his chin. Every movement was excruciating but Dean tried to drag himself across the floor and wriggle his wrists free. If he could free his hands he would be able to crawl up the stairs to Bobby. The footsteps continued and Dean desperately wriggled and tried to free his wrists. He had to warn Bobby before he ended up in this basement too and they were both dead.

  


His legs and knees screamed as he tried to move. They felt useless to his body; just heavy appendages that were keeping him weighted to the ground. Bobby could not come into the basement; if Bobby made his way down here, Dean had a feeling neither of them were walking back out ever again. Panic was making breathing harder and Dean could feel the saliva starting to choke him; coughing and sputtering, he continued to work his wrists which were burning against the rope that bound him.

 

The basement door; he could hear it opening.

  


The sound of his own blood rushed into his ears and Dean finally worked his wrist free. Yanking the gag down off of his face, Dean began to drag himself out of the shadows. Bobby was talking to Castiel. Bobby was still here. Bobby was going to walk down into the basement.

  


“Bobby! It’s Cas!” he screamed up the stairs as he tried to reach for a hold on the ground. “Bobby get out of here!” The sound of something tumbling down the steps made Dean freeze. His heart leapt into his throat and Dean whimpered slightly. “Bobby?” he whispered. “Bobby please-”

  


He glanced up at the shadow that fell across his face and if there had been any liquid left in his bladder, Dean was sure that that was Castiel standing over them both. Castiel tsked at him and shook his head slowly and sadly. “Dean, Dean, Dean. You shouldn’t have done that.”

  


“Bobby wake up- _Bobby!_ Please-” His voice cracked and Dean tried to back away from Castiel but he couldn’t move. “Bobby! Damn it wake up!”

  


Castiel stepped over Bobby’s body and walked over to grab Dean’s hair tightly, pulling his head back. “I was just going to poison him you know. I gave him a healthy dose of hemlock in his tea, it was going to paralyze him and suffocate him slowly...but you just _had_ to try and escape, didn’t you Dean? You couldn’t just lay down here like a good little boy and wait for me to come back for you.” Castiel sighed as if Dean had inconvenienced him gravely.

  


“Please Cas-let me go- _please_ -” Dean shuddered but Castiel smiled and it glinted in the dim light. “Cas-”

  


“Shhh shhh shhh. Dean, relax. It’s alright. You’re going to be just fine.” Castiel shoved Dean back to the ground and turned to drag Bobby over to the bathtub and dumped his body face down in the water.

  


Castiel began to hum again and Dean slid shaking hands over his ears. If he survived this he would never want to listen to Beethoven ever again.

  


“I thought you said you _liked_ classical music Dean,” Castiel asked as he flipped Dean over onto his back.

  


Dean gulped; his entire body was shaking and no matter how much he wanted to appear unafraid, he couldn’t help but be completely terrified. “Cas please-”

  


“ _Stop_ begging Dean. If you had just _stayed_ away from me Dean, if you had stayed away, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t have had to kill you. But if I let you go now, well,  I know you’ll talk. Turn me in-”

  


He was tempted to tell Castiel that he wouldn’t turn him in, but he knew that he would. He had to do his job, and he if he lied, Castiel would find a way to kill him. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to walk, drive, or even stand up. “I have to Cas,” he whispered.

  


“See Dean...this is why you’ve signed your own death warrant.” Castiel tsked and walked over to the table where he kept sharp instruments and other apparatuses. “I would apologize but I’m not sure I’m all that sorry, I think this will be rather enjoyable. For all of us.”

  


Dean gulped and stared at the sharp knife in Castiel’s hands; he shut his eyes and tried to picture his home back in Kansas. He had grown up on a farm, with animals, and fresh grown corn, beans, and potatoes. Sam, his younger brother, had always had fun chasing the chickens around in the backyard while Dean had been out helping his dad harvest vegetables. His mother used to hang their linens on a line out  back behind the house, and he had used to press his face into the fresh cotton smell of their white sheets. That was how his mother had smelled. Some tears escaped him, despite his attempts to stop crying. Castiel was sharpening a blade from what he could tell and Dean could only shake and tremble on the ground.

  


His mother used to sing songs and hymns to him before he went to bed. _Hey Jude_ had been her favorite song to sing him when he had been upset or sad. Humming the tune was the best thing he could do to drown out Castiel’s rendition of Moonlight Sonata. Voice shaking and heart pounding, Dean began to sing quietly. “Hey Jude.”

  


**▲** **▽** **▲** **▽**

  


“Good morning Dr. Novak.”

  


Castiel glanced up from where he had been planting more flowers in his backyard. A man he only recognized in passing was coming through his gate. He frowned slightly but the man produced a badge. “More FBI? Goodness, I wasn’t even this popular when I worked for you.”

  


“My name is Victor Henriksen, Dr. Novak. I’d like to ask you some questions about the disappearances of Agent Winchester and Agent Singer.”

  


Castiel sighed and wiped his hands clean before standing. “Would you like to come inside?”

  


Victor glanced at the back of the house before nodding. “I’d love to.”

  


Castiel smiled warmly. “Do you like tea, Agent?”

  


“I do, but I’m real particular about my tea.”

  
Castiel held open the back door for his new house guest. “Oh, well, my tea is to _die_ for. Promise.”  

 


End file.
